


Flick

by mistressterably



Series: The Willing Slave [5]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 12:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5626411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistressterably/pseuds/mistressterably
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor receives a fresh set of instructions from Clara and rises to the occasion. </p><p>This chapter is also filling a pic prompt from facebook!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flick

The Doctor opened the note as Clara had told him too. Two weeks after they had last traveled together. ‘No shirt or jacket. No boots. Only trousers and underpants. My bedroom. 8 PM sharp.’ What on earth did that impossible girl want to do to him this time? He did as he was told though. Changing in his room, he left his shirt and jacket hanging on their hooks and slipped into a pair of black silk boxers. One small red question mark embroidered on the leg. Next came his best pair of black trousers. It was odd to be without his shirt and jacket. Even more odd to not have socks or boots on. But she had directed him to appear this way and so he would show up. She hadn’t mentioned a belt so, erring on the side of caution, he left it off. 

At the console, he set the coordinates for her flat and the right time and shortly he was landing. Emerging, the Doctor stepped out into an almost dark flat. The only light was from her bedroom. Drawn to it like a moth to the flame, his large feet padded softly down the hall and paused a moment at the doorway. The bed was framed by two nightstands with two small lights on dimly lighting the room. No sign of Clara. Draped in deep red satin sheets with two large red pillows at the head, his eyes adjusted to the dim light and he could see the two wrist cuffs linked by a leather strap to the headboard. The word in his head wasn’t quite translatable to English but the closest would have been ‘fuck me hard in my soul’. His eyes found the note at the foot of the bed. 

Lie down, hands above your head.

He swallowed hard and then got on the bed as directed. Stretched out, his feet hung off the end of the bed if he lay straight. Instead, he lay with his legs slightly apart and bent at the knees. Scooting up a little more, he raised his arms above his head and could easily touch the cuffs. With one finger, he stroked the leather as he waited. Even without them on he could feel himself stiffening in his trousers. The power Clara held over him was intense. Willingly.

Then she arrived. Standing in the doorway, she wore a black silk dressing robe. Her eyes roamed up and down his long body. Laying there for her viewing pleasure, Clara took in the sight. His large feet, toes flexing in anticipation. Then the hint of his bulging groin, undefined in the dim light and his dark trousers. Up to his stomach and the dusting of grey hair just above the waistband of his trousers. The chest rising and falling with deep breaths. With his arms above his head, it defined his bone structure. Finally she looked into his eyes, enjoying the submission he gave her. 

Clara approached the bed, moving to one side to bend over and slip the cuffs onto his wrists. A slight tug and they were tightened. He wrapped his fingers around the strap, waiting for her. With a lift of his head, he followed her with his eyes as she returned to the foot of the bed. Clara stood a moment, looking at him and licking her lips. With a slow move, her hands went to the belt at her waist and loosened it. Her robe fell open to reveal black lace bra and panties. His mouth went dry and he licked his lips at the sight of her. 

LIke a tiger slowly approaching its prey, Clara got on the bed on all fours to make her way over him but not touching him until she made it to his side. The Doctor could only move his legs, parting them eagerly and hoping she would touch him but she didn’t just yet. Her hair hung down, framing her face. Her red lips slightly apart and then the tip of her pink tongue darted out. His eyes fixed on her, darting from her face to her chest, to her legs and then back to her face. 

Clara let one hand finally rest on his chest, teasing over his body to touch his sparse chest hair. Her fingertip brushed over first one nipple then the other. A fingernail scratched a light line down the center of his chest to his belly agonizingly slowly. Once past his belly, her fingernail traced the edge of his waist dipping slightly under the trousers until she hovered over the button. Before she released it, she held his eyes until he begged her silently. 

All she had to do was just rest her fingers on the button to turn him on. He was rigid in his trousers now in anticipation. Sitting back on her heels, she watched him beg with his eyes, his chest heaving up and down with his growing desire to please her. Lifting her hand from his waist, she licked her fingertip before using it to draw along the edge of his trousers. He sucked in his stomach with a shiver of excitement. Her eyes closed slightly at his reaction.   
How she was able to push him to the edge with the merest of looks and lightest of touches was still a mystery to him. He didn’t fight it though. So as she looked at him, he strained against the cuffs and lifted his hips slightly towards her. She didn’t stop him so he bent his legs at the knees to lift his hips higher towards her hands. It was his way of begging her with his body to touch him. Clara didn't’ give him what he wanted. Rather she rested her hand on his stomach again, fingers splayed out to run up along the center of his chest. There was no pressure from her touch but he dropped his hips back down onto the bed. Pleased by his response, Clara moved her hand towards his left chest and teased his nipple with her fingertip. She circled it over and over until it hardened before she drifted her hand over to his right chest to do the same to his right nipple. His eyes watched her every move.

Once both nipples had been teased to her satisfaction, he watched her lift her hand and rest a finger against his lips. Parting them for her, Clara dipped her fingertip into his mouth for him to lick at it. She slipped her finger back out of his mouth and replaced it with her thumb. He wrapped his lips around her offered digit and sucked on it hungrily. Clara moved her thumb in and out of his mouth, allowing him to suck for a few minutes before she withdrew it and licked it for herself. 

Moving on the bed, she was astride him at the thighs. Both hands rested on his stomach to massage him slowly back and forth over his stomach to his waist and back again. His stomach muscles flexed and relaxed with her stroking. When she finally edged closer to the waist of his trousers, his mouth opened slightly and his head tilted back into the bed, eyes closed. It was almost too much for him to handle. Stopping himself from giving voice to his urges, Clara slowly eased the button of his trousers open, teasing them apart as far as they would go without pulling on the zip. Then, with her tongue wetting her fingertip, Clara danced her fingertip over the small patch of exposed skin. It made him catch his breath, holding it for a moment. Another sucking of her finger and again, teasing him until he was moving his head from side to side, wanting more from her but unable to voice what he wanted. At her mercy, he waited. He ached, badly. 

Clara bent over his chest, her hands drawn away from his waist . A hand on either side of his chest, her hair drifted over his chest as she gently kissed each nipple. More teasing from her as her tongue did the same to each nipple as her fingers had done before. Her soft lips nibbling on the hard points until he was once more lifting his hips towards her. She moved herself up away from his rising hips to keep them separated. She wasn’t ready for him yet. This was her show to direct. Clara kissed her way to the center of his chest and then in a line downwards to his belly. Her tongue was hot and wet against his body, making him quiver. Sliding down so she could kiss further down to the small spot of exposed skin at his unbuttoned trousers. As her tongue darted in and out of her mouth to taste him, her fingers ran up and down the length of his zipper, with a light pressure against him. 

Her fingers found the outline of his erection and massaged up and down the length through his trousers and boxers. As she massaged him she was guiding his shaft in his trousers until it was held against him but straining up towards his stomach. The tip was pressing against the waistband of his boxers just under the top end of his zipper. His hips arched up in a jerk as her fingers gripped the tab of his zipper and slid it down. The sound seemingly loud in the silence of her bedroom. Part of the pressure was relieved on his member and he sighed audibly. The sound made Clara look at him sharply. 

The Doctor squeeze his eyes shut tight, waiting for her punishment. The pressure of her hand and her body on him shifted. She was sat on his thighs, pinning him down. Her punishment was swift. Her fingers found his nipples, pinching them hard until he was biting down hard on his lips to stop himself making any noise at all. The pinching became a rough twisting. He filled his lungs with a deep breath and held himself quiet until she released his nipples from their torture. Then he let out his breath and opened his eyes. He looked at her with compliance and regret. With a nod, Clara bent back to his chest to begin her slow progression once more from his chest to his stomach and finally to the waistband of his boxers. His trousers lay apart as far as the open zip would allow but it was enough for his hard shaft to strain against his boxers.

He raised his legs until she could rest back against them. Clara was pleased with his thoughtfulness and let her fingers dance softly along his length to make him sigh softly. A quick flick of her finger against the tip of his erection made him tremble. Another flick of her fingers and he trembled again. 

Flick. Flick. Flick.

He rolled his head back and forth with each teasing strike against his erection.

Flick. Flick. Flick.

The Doctor didn’t think he could get more aroused but his Clara was doing it to him now.

Flick. Flick. Flick.

Thrusting upward, he tried to get her to stop but the pressure of her body held him still.

Flick. Flick. Flick.

He couldn’t beg her to stop. Just take her teasing. Her torture of him. His breathing quickened and it was taking all his effort to not explode in his boxers.

Clara stopped her flicking and returned to massaging his shaft. His eyes shot open as her fingers finally eased the waistband of his boxers down. Then he had to gasp, holding his breath once more, as she only drew it down enough to expose the glistening,wet tip of his erection. The waistband held his shaft tight against his skin. The cool air was brushing only against his exposed tip. The blood filled his member, turning the head almost purple with aching desire. Wetting her finger, she touched him lightly. Tracing around the hood, her fingertip became covered with his pre-cum. When her touch slid over the slit he jerked upwards towards her. His fingers gripped the leather strap, knuckles turning white. 

Two fingers now were teasing him, drawing more pre-cum out of his slit. He whimpered. The ache was becoming unbearable. His eyes squeezed tight to the point that colours exploded behind his eyelids. He would have to release soon. There was no holding him back. Clara sensed it and pressed the side of her thumb against the tip of his cock, covering his hole. Her other hand was gliding up and down his still-covered shaft. 

Head back as far as it would go, his body tensed and arched upwards. He peaked, the pressure of her thumb against him made him groan as he let go. As the orgasm passed over him, his body relaxed under her. Clara wasn’t done yet with him. She moved up from his thighs and began to grind her crotch against his still-hard shaft through his boxers. Her panties were soaked through from her own arousal and it began to soak his boxers. Clara fucked him hard, riding his shaft up and down until she was gripping his waist. Her fingers dug into him as she moaned from her own orgasm. She didn’t stop her grinding until she cried out a second time. 

Leaving him restrained, she slowly got up from the bed and stripped off her sopping wet panties and unclasped her bra. Both items of clothing fell to the floor at the foot of the bed. Only when she was naked did she reach up and slide his trousers off, then his stained boxers came off. They joined her undergarments on the floor. The streaks of his cum lay on his stomach. Clara looked at it for a moment, picked up his boxers again and used them to wipe him clean. 

Still with his arms raised over his head, Clara finally tugged the blankets out from under him. Pulling the blankets over both of them, she curled up against his long body and easily fell asleep beside him. He relaxed finally. The cuffs meant nothing to him. It just meant that she wasn’t looking for him to cuddle with her. She just wanted him to be her pillow that night. He smiled and let his eyes drift close.


End file.
